Precursor
by zevie and Molly
Summary: *Chapter 10* Dual authored...that's right your favorite authors have come together to present a story for you! Awesome author zevie and crazy writer Molly co-authored this wonderful little tidbit! have a look and let us know what you think. Happy reading
1. Chapter 1

Ponyboy Curtis leaned his head on his hand as he casually scrawled a picture in his English notebook. His eyes began to get heavy as the professor droned on his monosyllabic lecture. Pony's mind drifted, thinking of his parents who passed on nearly a year ago; he decided he couldn't bear it if any of his family or friends were to leave him again.  
  
"Ponyboy," Patricia Curtis caught her son's wrist, "stop that fidgeting."  
  
Ponyboy looked up to his mother's soft face expressing a mean glare in an attempt to get him to obey her order. Ponyboy looked down to his shaking leg and consciously stopped it from bobbing up and down.  
  
"Mom," he moaned in response, "I'm bored."  
  
"Keep quiet son," Daryl Curtis eyed his son with a wide smile. Something about Mr. Curtis's calm happy mannerisms soothed Pony's aching desire to be out of this huge arena. "You're brother only graduates once."  
  
Ponyboy leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. Pony managed keeping still for a matter of seconds before leaning up in his chair hoping to catch a glimpse of his brother's head. Then he felt a soft hand on his arm. After examining the perfectly manicured natural nails, Ponyboy looked up to the soft brown eyes owned by Darry's girlfriend Bonnie, she smiled warmly at him. Pony loved Bonnie.  
  
"Hey Pon," she said, "Calm down, we'll be out of here real soon."  
  
"Promise?" Pony asked hopefully.  
  
"I promise," she nodded, "and then we'll be going to dinner. It'll be fun."  
  
"Ponyboy," a classmate nudged the back of his chair.  
  
Ponyboy shook his head coming back to consciousness, he frowned remembering his dream. He missed Bonnie, he missed his parents and he missed Darry the way he used to be. He sighed picking up his books, Darry had begged Dally to pick him up from his last day of junior high and he knew Dally wouldn't wait if he were late.  
  
As if reading his thoughts, the end of the day bell rang, freeing the sleeping students of the snore that is junior high school. Grabbing his bag, Ponyboy leapt out of his seat and was out the door before most of the other students had even realized that school was out for the day. He bolted down the hallway and out into the sun, his knapsack banging heavily against his back. Squinting in the bright light, Ponyboy scanned the student parking lot for Dally's car, mentally conjuring up an image of the battered vehicle.  
  
"Dented fender," he muttered to himself. "Broken window…no hood on the car." Then he laughed, spotting Dallas lounging on the trunk of his car. "Okay, maybe there IS a hood on the car."  
  
He began walking towards his friend. The tow-headed greaser was very obviously trying to come on to a pretty blond (a Soc, AND a cheerleader… "Who is he kidding?" Ponyboy couldn't help thinking). If Dally managed to score, he would undoubtedly leave Ponyboy in the dust. Pony started to walk a little faster. However, he had nothing to worry about – the girl wasn't having any.  
  
"Go play with your own kind hood!" she said snappishly, turning away from Dallas. Her eyes met Ponyboy's and she sneered again. Turning to her other cheerleading friend, she said loudly: "God this place is going to the dogs! Greasers crawling everywhere."  
  
Her friend giggled and Ponyboy felt his ears turn red. He hated when this happened. His mouth went all dry and his brain stopped working, leaving him feeling embarrassed and mad at the same time. "I'm not a greaser!" he blurted out before he could stop himself. The two girls only laughed again, and Dally shot him a look that seemed to say something along the lines of: "Well that did a lot, you stupid moron."  
  
Blushing even more, Ponyboy hurried to get inside his friend's car, and away from the still giggling Soc girls. Dally didn't move, but glared at him through the dirty front window.  
  
"Real loyal, huh Ponyboy," he said sarcastically. "Denying your heritage and all that."  
  
By this time the two girls had been joined by their boyfriends, two tall, smart and equally handsome boys, now also laughing at the greasers. Ponyboy sank down in his seat, feeling none the less embarrassed knowing it was Dallas they were laughing at now.  
  
"It ain't my heritage Dally," he mumbled insolently. Luckily for him, Dally wasn't listening.  
  
"What the hell you laughing at?" he shouted at the group of Socs. Dallas didn't wait for a reply. He was pissed off, and before you could say, "irrational dimwit" he'd jumped on one of the Soc-boyfriends and was trying to beat him to a pulp. The girls shrieked, and the other boy started hollering, but before he could do anything to Dally, the blond cheerleader grabbed hold of his arm.  
  
"There! That's the little snot that talked back to me," she snarled, pointing a finger at Ponyboy.  
  
'Oh bloody hell,' Pony thought, as the second Soc approached him. He got out of the car (no sense in getting trapped) and suppressed the urge to cringe. He didn't even have to wait and see what happened – he could already imagine what Darry would say when he got home…  
  
Ponyboy dodged a blow, followed by several others. He missed a couple punches and threw a few of his own. Before he knew it Dally was dragging him off toward the car; as the cheerleaders were hysterically crying and tugging on their boyfriend's sleeves begging them to stop.  
  
One of the jocks jabbed a finger in Dally's direction, "This isn't over hood! We'll get you, I promise that!"  
  
"Not if I get ya'll first!" Dally screamed and Pony now found himself dragging Dally toward the car. Pony didn't remember how he got Dally in the car, or if it was actually him that convinced Dally to take him home but he was glad to be on his way there. Pony peeked his head out the window examining his face in the half connected rearview mirror. Gingerly he reached out and adjusted the mirror so he could see himself in it. A gash from a ring was on his chin and a puff bruise was beginning to form under his eye.  
  
"Nice shiner," Dally said. Pony wondered how Dally could be so angry one moment and now humored by the color of Pony's cheek. He shrugged it off and let it go, knowing that Dally's way to relax and let off steam was by fighting. Pony turned his attention back to the kid in the mirror. He swore internally wondering how he was going to explain the black eye to Darry and Soda.  
  
"Real tuff," Pony added sarcastically. He dabbed the cut on his chin with the collar of his tee shirt wiping the blood away. Finally he gave up and let the mirror dangle again; he was horrified to see that Dally wasn't headed to his house at all and Pony began to get a sick feeling in his stomach wondering where Dally intended on going while dragging him along.  
  
Pony suppressed a groan and attempted a curious tone, "Where we goin' Dal?"  
  
"I gotta pick up Sylvia, little broad wants to go to the drive in," Dally shrugged pulling a pack of smokes from his front pocket, then slinging the pack so several emerged one of which he fumbled with his lips to grab as he was using the other hand to steer. He lit it up and looked over to Pony, "Maybe if I'm lucky I'll get laid."  
  
Pony blinked awkwardly at the rough teenager, wondering if he heard properly. After he decided he had he jerked his head forward again with a blank stare, "Dal, where are we going to pick Sylvia up at?"  
  
Dally shrugged giving it little though, "Buck's."  
  
An instant panic came over Pony, Darry had threatened to beat his head in if he came within a mile of Buck Merrill's place.  
  
"Couldn't you, ya know… drop me off first?" Ponyboy asked as casually as he could, his heart pounding like a jackhammer at the thought of Darry finding out that he'd been at Buck's. He'd be doubly grounded.  
  
Dally swerved, barely missing a parked car (as old a lemon as it was, Ponyboy didn't think whatever guy owned it would be pleased if Dally had flattened his car). He skidded to a stop, bumping one tire over the sidewalk. The jolt sent Ponyboy flying into the door, whacking his head hard on it. The stupid seatbelt hadn't worked.  
  
Dally leaned over and opened the passenger door. "There," he said, pulling the weed from his mouth, "consider yourself dropped off." When Pony didn't move, he motioned at the open door, simultaneously flicking his ashes off in every conceivable direction. "Well? What ya waitin' for? A goddamned written invitation?" Still Ponyboy didn't move. He had no clue where he was – walking home from here wasn't an option. He was hoping if he didn't move Dally would forget about it and pick up Sylvia with Ponyboy still in the car. Dally didn't have much patience.  
  
As expected, Dally got tired quickly of waiting, and soon enough they were back on the road, speeding for Buck's, Sylvia, and (to Ponyboy) hell.  
  
They pulled up at Buck's dismal "pad" (as he called it) and Dally hopped out, leaving Ponyboy to try and disappear into his tee shirt. Clouds had appeared out of nowhere, and the smell of rain was about. Five minutes ago there'd been blazing sun. The weather was so unpredictable in the summer. Pony shivered, wishing he'd brought a jacket. It didn't help that Dally was taking forever. Hell, they were probably doing it already. He'd probably forgotten about Ponyboy completely. Pony stepped out of the car and headed for Buck's hut. At the very least, he could call Two-Bit for a ride. He opened the door, and then had to duck as a plate very nearly took his head off. The next second his ears were greeted with the undeniable sounds of Dally swearing.  
  
"You stupid bitch, messing around with that asshole Buck?! What the fuck do you think you're doing? Who the fuck do you think-"  
  
Ponyboy tore for the car, not bothering to listen to the rest of Dally's rant. He'd witnessed a Dally/Sylvia breakup before and had no desire to relive the experience. Both of them screaming could make bunch of preteen Beatles groupies at a concert sound like quiet mice.  Seconds after Ponyboy's door closed, Dally came barreling out of the house, swearing loud enough to be heard in Africa. He was followed closely by Sylvia, who was dressed only in a sheet and screaming that oh-so-familiar phrase: "We're over! You hear? You fucking hood! We're over! Over!" Dally jumped in the car and took off, tires screaming. Ponyboy gripped tight to the seatbelt; useless or not, it was the most reassuring thing in the car.  
  
Dally muttered to himself, turning down an unknown street, his face flushed and angry. Before he could stop himself, Ponyboy had opened his mouth and was saying: "Guess you aren't so lucky then." And before he knew it, Ponyboy had two shiners. 


	2. Chapter 2

Pony stared out the front window holding back any comments that crossed his mind, he knew Dally wouldn't hesitate to knock the daylights out of him if he mouthed off again without thinking. He wondered where they were going because he still had no idea where they were. Pony knew Darry wouldn't be home for several more hours so no questions would be asked about where he was but he definitely could count on having to explain the bumps and bruises. Pony reached over and took a harder hold on the broken seatbelt as he noticed Dally coming up on a curve. Dally took the bend extremely tight and swung the car up into a parking spot, at which point he hopped out and headed into the diner he had parked in front of.   
  
Pony leaned over and tried to push the door open, but when he found it jammed he had to climb out the window and make a mad dash to catch Dally. The bell clinked when Dally opened the door. Pony followed closely behind with no words. Now he knew his location, this was Moe's. No doubt Dally was here for a free meal from Mrs. Mathews who waited tables in the evenings when Two-bit was home and could watch his little sister. Ponyboy laughed at the thought, Two-bit and home didn't go together; Two-bit and the Curtis house now that was more like it. The irresponsible teen had lost his little sister twice and Mrs. Mathews still, after much internal debate, let Two-bit look after her.  
  
Dally plopped down at the counter table, Pony quickly took the seat next to him. Seconds later Mrs. Mathews appeared from the back, which she smiled quickly at the two boys. "Well if it ain't my two favorite greasers in the whole world," she said.  
  
Pony applied a grin but wondered in the back of his mind what in the world he had in common with Dallas Winston that would top the list of Mrs. Mathews most liked persons. For some reason Mrs. Mathews really did like Dally, but none of the gang could put their finger on it.  
  
"Can I get you boys somethin'?" She asked with a polite smile, whipping out her ordering pad.  
  
Dally nodded, "You bet, I'm starved. Can I have one of them burgers?"  
  
She nodded as she scrawled on the pad, "Pony?"  
  
"None for me today, I gotta get home," Pony said, "it's getting' late. Where's Two-bit?" Pony questioned hoping he could catch a real ride home.  
  
"Who knows," she laughed.   
  
Pony stared at her, she could be quite scatterbrained at times. 'It's not far', he told himself, 'I can walk it and still be home before Darry.' "Well, I'm gonna go. I'll see ya later Dally, bye Mrs. Mathews."  
  
Dally didn't say anything he just waved Pony off and Mrs. Mathews nodded, "Bye-bye Ponyboy, come back soon."  
  
Pony frowned stepping outside in the rain. He'd have been better off walking from school. He simply rolled his eyes and headed down the road. He didn't stop and he cut across a couple yards and several back allies and he was home within a half hour. He stopped on the porch giving his clothes a minute to drip off and himself a second to gloat over his accomplishment of making it home in the rain so quickly.  
  
Finally, he swung the door open, and to his horrified dismay found his favorite brother on the couch with his girlfriend Sandy; both parties completely butt naked.  
  
What Ponyboy really wanted to do was run as fast as his legs could carry him out the door and down to the FBI headquarters so they could erase his memory. As it was, he gave vent to a scream of surprise. Sandy's eyes flew open and Sodapop whipped around. Both of them stared in shock.  
  
"Ponyboy?" Soda asked stupidly. Meanwhile, Sandy, who had by then figured out that it was indeed Ponyboy, snatched up her discarded clothing and was desperately trying to put them on behind Sodapop.  
  
Ponyboy's ears began to burn. He looked away quickly, but the flush kept spreading along the back of his neck and up across his cheeks until his entire body was one flaming red mass of embarrassment.  
  
Soda grabbed at his jeans. "Jeez Pony, I didn't think you'd be...Goddamned Dallas...said he'd keep ya awhile..." Soda's face was tinged pink and he gave Ponyboy a sheepish smile.  
"Whatever," Ponyboy mumbled and hurried for the door. He didn't want to be in there when Sandy decided to cuss his brother out for letting them get caught. He slid through the kitchen and out the door. Outside, the rain had stopped and a slight breeze had picked up. Ponyboy sighed in relief. He hadn't realised he'd gotten so hot. He shuddered remembering the two of them curled up on the couch, wrapped up in each other's arms, totally preoccupied with what they were doing...  
  
"No!" Ponyboy yelped, shaking his head violently. He couldn't stand thinking of that a minute longer. He might be sick. He might never be able to talk to Sodapop again. Or he might discover that he really actually maybe might by chance at some distant later date wanna do that himself...  
  
"PONYBOY!"  
  
Ponyboy leapt nearly three feet in the air. When he'd landed he found Two-Bit's grinning face looming above him. "Hey there, scaredy cat! Ma said you was lookin' for me before?"  
  
Ponyboy shook his head. "I wanted a ride home from the diner where your mom works."  
  
"Tough."  
  
"You're never around when someone needs ya."  
  
"But always there when they don't," Two-Bit added cheerfully. "And don't you smart-ass your elders."  
  
"Yessir. You got a smoke?" Ponyboy asked hastily, noticing Two-Bit make a move toward the door.  
  
Two-Bit hunched his shoulders, rubbing his bare arms. "Jeez Ponyboy, it's cold outside. Why not go in and smoke? Darry's still at work ain't he? I won't tell."  
  
Ponyboy glanced back at the door. Sodapop would be in there. SANDY would be in there for God's sake.  
  
"Hey man, I think your ears is getting cold. They're getting mighty red. Either that or you're embarrassed about something..." Ponyboy could feel himself blush even more - a dead give-away.  
  
"Alright what's going on?" Two-Bit finally handed Ponyboy the cigarette.  
  
Ponyboy shrugged lighting his smoke. "Nothing. I just like it outside."  
  
Two-Bit lit up his own cigarette. "Naw, it ain't 'nothing'. Your face doesn't get red at 'nothing'. Almost nothing, it does, but not absolute nothing. So what is it?"  
  
"It's-"  
  
"If you say 'nothing' again I'll tell Darry about that fight y'all had with the Socs today," Two-Bit warned.  
  
Ponyboy's jaw dropped. "Wha...who told you that!"  
  
"It's written all over your face," Two-Bit said pointing at Ponyboy's bruises. Then he doubled over laughing. When he'd stopped he said: "No, Dallas told me. He was at the diner. Hey how come ya didn't hitch a ride home with him?"  
  
Ponyboy took a long drag off his weed, counting down backwards in his head. He could either tell about Dally or about Sodapop. Two-Bit was bound to talk, and Darry was bound to hear something about broken rules. "No fighting with Socs, going near Buck's and careening madly through the streets in Dally's beat up car with a maniac at the wheel" definitely seemed like a bigger rule than "No fooling around on the couch". Soda always got off easy anyway.  
"I caught Soda and Sandy on the couch."  
  
Two-Bit looked at him. "And?"  
  
Ponyboy cringed. "And they were...you know...doing...stuff...without clothes..."  
  
Two-Bit laughed for about a century.  
  
"You poor kid," he managed to gasp out finally. "Oh man...score one for Sodapop huh? Him and Sandy...right there on the couch?"  
  
BANG. The gate swung shut. "What exactly were Sodapop and Sandy doing on the couch Two-Bit." Impenetrable silence.  
  
Slowly Ponyboy and Two-Bit turned around.  
  
"Er...hello Darry." 


	3. Chapter 3

Two-bit didn't hesitate, he couldn't handle it; he broke into roaring laughs that started at the pit of his stomach and growled up through his chest and out his mouth in large hiccupping gasps. Darry blinked in surprise, wondering what in the world could be so funny. Pony leaned over and jabbed him once in the ribs. "Ouch." Two-bit managed between air inhalation.  
  
Darry turned to Pony and upon examining him for that brief second he asked, "Glory Pony, are you sick? Your pink all over."  
  
Pony's face turned redder, he could feel it burn deeper. And though he wanted to fight it he had to tell Darry the truth, "Yes." He barked the word so sharp Darry drew back.  
  
"Well, what's'a matter?" Darry asked.  
  
Before Pony could answer the three heard screaming tires, and instantly up on the curb was Dally's barely drivable and definitely not safe vehicle. Dally was instantly out of the car, past the Curtis gate, and standing in the yard aside Ponyboy, "Where'd ya go kid?" Then he jabbed a thumb at Two-bit, "What's so funny?"  
  
Darry just sighed and shook his head, walking up the steps and into his house were he found Sodapop sitting on the couch casually watching TV. The three remaining greasers took that as a cue to enter and Pony was quite relieved to see Soda as he had hoped to find him earlier, as he was also thankful for Two-bit's lack of ability to speak due to the uncontrollable laughter. But Pony knew, if the scatterbrained hood remembered, Two-bit would spill it about Soda and Sandy; it was just a matter of when.  
  
Darry froze in his tracks. "Wait a minute," he spun back to face the three younger males, "Didn't you pick Pony up from school Dal?"  
  
Dally nodded, "Yeah Darry, why?"  
  
"Because you asked Pony where he went?"  
  
Dally just waved a hand, "It was nothin' Darry."  
  
Darry looked to Pony wait for a confirmation, but upon looking at his brother Darry's face grew solemn. He grabbed Pony by the wrist and jerked him forward into the yellow glow of the overhead light, "What the hell happened to your face!?"  
  
"I got in a fight," Pony answered.  
  
"You what?" Darry demanded.  
  
"Ah Darry knock it off. It's good for the kid, builds character," Dally said.  
  
"I'd hope to think you didn't have anything to do with it Dallas," Darry said.  
  
"Then you'd be thinkin' wrong," Dally smiled, almost as if proud, "Doesn't everything that goes down wrong in this town somehow involve me?"  
  
Darry grumbled something to himself then pushed Pony across the living room toward the bathroom, "Clean up."  
  
"Sandy's in there," Soda looked up, "Can't he use your bathroom?"  
  
"Whatever," Darry growled, he had had a long week and wasn't in the mood for any mischief, back talking, or trouble, "just clean up. Dally it'd do you good to do the same; you look like hell."  
  
"Thanks Darry," Dally smirked.   
  
The two boys stood at the sink washing their bruises and cuts clean with a bar of soap. Pony touched his eye gingerly, as he confirmed sarcastically, "Real tuff."  
  
Dally simply laughed bitterly, hoping Pony would grow into the concept of being proud of his 'war wounds'. The two loped back into the living room where they found Two-bit and Soda wrestling on the floor; where it came to light, by the snip it's of conversation they were having, that Two-bit had made a world record and lasted an entire seven minutes before letting the cat out of the bag about Soda and Sandy.   
  
"I'll get you Two-bit," Soda hollered.  
  
"Yeah, we'll just see about that ya trashy hood," Two-bit said cheerily pulling Soda back in a headlock.  
  
Darry promptly entered the room and informed the bunch that dinner was ready and if anyone wanted anything they'd knock off the rough housing because Darry was getting a killer headache.  
  
Slowly the crowd began to get spars, until finally the only one's left were the Curtis boys and a passed out Two-bit. Soda smiled to Pony giving him a slap on the shoulder, "I promised Two-bit I'd get him...here's my chance."  
  
"What're you gonna do Soda?" Pony asked with wide eyes.  
  
"Shhh-" Soda put a finger to his lips as he slipped off to the bathroom. Pony cocked an eyebrow, wondering what his brother could possibly be up to. When Soda returned with a bottle of shave cream and a straight blade Pony leapt up shaking his head.  
  
"You can't be serious," Pony said staring at Sodapop questioningly. Pony knew the one thing Two-bit took pride in was those long sideburns, and Soda would really have some trouble if he shaved them. And as Pony watched Soda lather the cream up over a sleeping Two-bit's cheeks all Pony could come to think was... 'Soda was really going to have some trouble in the morning'.  
  
The peaceful play of light streaming in through the window (hitting Ponyboy's closed eyes dead on) accompanied by the musical beeping of his alarm clock was savagely interrupted by Darry screaming "Get your lazy ass outta bed!" Callous bastard.  
  
"Rudest awakening imaginable," Ponyboy muttered to himself, burying his head in his pillow as protection against another ear-splitting verbal assault.  
  
"OH MY GOD WHAT DID YOU DO!"  
  
"Waitaminute...that's not Darry..." Ponyboy sprang from his bed with newfound energy and wrenched open the bedroom door. His eyes fell upon what proved his worst fears to be true. Or rather, Two-Bit's worst fears.  
  
"I'LL KILL HIM! I SWEAR!" The distraught greaser yowled. He was gazing into a spoon, mournfully examining his shorn face. "I'LL TEAR HIM A NEW ONE!"  
  
Ponyboy bit his lip, trying not to laugh. He'd seen it last night when Two-Bit had spontaneously fallen asleep on their floor, but the look was now all the more hilarious sported on the animated wise-cracker.  
  
Darry was standing in the door, arms crossed, his face twisted in a look that plainly said: "Dear God, don't let me laugh." He caught Ponyboy's eye, and Ponyboy smiled back, inviting Darry to share the joke between them. His older brother dropped the amused look immediately, replacing it with his usual stern expression. "Food's in the kitchen getting cold," he said icily. "Would have been warm if you weren't so lazy." Ponyboy rolled his eyes.  
  
"Fuck off, Darry, it's the first day of summer holiday, ya think you could pull the stick outta your arse for one freakin' day?" is what he wanted to say.  
  
"Whatever," he mumbled instead.  
  
"Where the hell is that dick-head?" Two-Bit growled, pushing past Ponyboy into the bedroom, and then shoving him again on exit, finding the room empty.  
  
Sodapop chose this moment to conveniently make his entrance. He wandered in from outside and got as far as "What's up y'a-" before Two-Bit began to throttle him.  
  
"STUPID ASS!" he yelled as the two wrestled. "NOW I GOTTA CHANGE MY WHOLE LOOK!"  
  
"Ooh, your whole 'look'!" Soda teased, pulling free of Two-Bit's grasp. "Golly gee! Well, maybe you could dye your hair to match your nail polish ya silly poof. Or cut it to look like Elv - urgh," he spluttered as Two-Bit's hands once again found his throat.  
  
"Cut it out," Darry said, waving an irritated hand at them, much in the manner of a man bothered by a couple of flies. "You're buggin' me."  
  
Ponyboy seated himself, grabbing a couple pancakes and liberally pouring syrup over them. They weren't cold. Darry was exaggerating to further assert his family role as leader. The stupid prick.  
  
He munched slowly, watching Two-Bit let go of Sodapop, his freedom bought in exchange for the use of his hair oil. They trudged to the bathroom bickering and occasionally punching each other.  
  
Darry sat across from Ponyboy, watching his younger brother eat. Ponyboy gave him an apprehensive look then turned his attention to his food, shoveling it in as fast as he could. Darry smirked.  
  
"Don't eat so fast, you'll get indigestion."  
  
Ponyboy gave him a dirty look, and kept eating. Darry sighed inwardly. He could never get Ponyboy to do anything or ever listen to him. One little comment and he'd earned himself a hateful look. That thing about kids looking up to their older brother's was a complete myth in Darry's opinion.  
  
"Hey, where's your report card?" he asked suddenly. If Ponyboy was going to hate him anyway, he may as well ask.  
  
Ponyboy gave him another dirty look, as was expected, then trudged to the door where his backpack had been dropped. He fished out a slightly bent package, handed it to Darry and went back to eating.  
  
Darry opened it and scanned it quickly through his machine-like brain. Math - A - good. Science - A- - reasonable. English...C?!  
  
"What the hell happened with English?" Darry demanded.  
  
Ponyboy shrugged. "Teacher didn't like me. It doesn't matter."  
  
Darry put the report card down. "What do you mean, 'it doesn't matter'? Of course it matters! This is your future! You're just going to give it up like that?"  
  
Ponyboy frowned. "It wasn't my fault. Teacher doesn't like me. Besides, it's just the 8th grade-"  
  
"Don't you pull that one on me Ponyboy Curtis," Darry said, pointing a finger at his brother. "You get into bad habits now, and before you know it, you'll be failing the 12th grade."  
  
Ponyboy rolled his eyes. "It's just one grade. Look I got an A in Math anyway-"  
  
"Math I don't have a problem with. It's your ENGLISH mark that bugs me."  
  
"So? It's MY mark! Who cares-"  
  
"Are you even listening to me?" They were both shouting by now. Neither of them had noticed that Dallas had quietly slipped in and was watching the battle between the brothers.  
  
"I told you, you have to get good grades now, or you'll get worse grades next year, and the year after-"  
  
"Yeah, and then I'll fail the 12th grade. Look I'm doing fine! I'm skipping a grade for God's sake, I'm smart enough to pass!"  
  
"You're in grade 12?!" Dally cut in at last. "When the hell did that happen?"  
"He's not in grade 12, Dallas," Darry said flatly.  
  
Ponyboy looked back at Darry, triumphant. "See? If I'm not in it how could I fail?"  
"When you get into grade 12 then you'll fail."  
  
"Can't you ever just leave well enough alone?" Ponyboy yelled. "Nothing's ever good enough for you. You always think I'll do bad. No wonder I got a 'C'!"  
  
"Pony-" Darry said, but Ponyboy turned and fled back to his room, pushing past Two-Bit and Sodapop as they emerged and slamming the door so hard the house shook. Darry turned the other way, fuming, and pushed past Dally to the outside, this time slamming the door so hard the three remaining greasers had to fight to stay on their feet.  
  
"What the heck happened here?" Two-Bit asked, scratching his greased head.  
  
Dally took one look at Two-Bit and it took all his strength to keep from dropping to the floor and laughing till he died. The wisecracker's hair was smothered flat around his head to try and hide his vanished sideburns and it was greased so much it looked like plastic. He looked like a Ken doll.  
  
Two-Bit looked Dally straight in the eye and sighed dejectedly. "I know. I look like a Beatle." 


	4. Chapter 4

"Who looks like a Beatle?" Johnny said softly as he pushed the door open with one hand while the other stayed planted firmly in his pocket. As soon as his foot hit the carpet Johnny froze, and his face paled before he murmured a few gentle laughs, then slid past the group into the kitchen.  
  
Two-bit leaned back and looked himself over in the mirror again. Finding the reflection not at all appealing he jerked his comb from his back pocket and smoothed his heavily oiled hair once more. Then with the remaining hair grease on the comb, pulled back the tip and flicked the glob on Sodapop. Soda in quick retaliation caught Two-bit around the neck in a headlock.  
  
"HEY!" Darry hollered from the kitchen. "I ain't got time for this. Soda you need to get to work. I gotta get going, Two-bit will you drive him?"  
  
Two-bit nodded as he pulled back from Soda's grasp, "I'd be happy to, we can continue this on the way."  
  
The house slowly emptied, Ponyboy had been commanded to behave himself as he was left alone. The day found him extremely bored. He watched the reruns of American Bandstand and Mickey, but that got old. He tried to read, but he wasn't in the mood and very picture he tired to draw came out crooked or just wrong. It was then that he decided this was going to be an extremely long summer. It was four when Pony decided to head up to the DX, likewise it was four when Johnny decided to go hunting for the football in the lot and perhaps get the guys together for a game when Darry got home from work.  
  
Johnny walked patiently alongside the road his hands nervously turning his lighter over and over in his hand. He thought the football had been left in the lot, but he couldn't see it.   
Johnny decided perhaps it was on the backside of the lot. He began to mosey in that direction, it was a warm day and definitely a treat to be outdoors. Johnny peeked out of the high grass desperately in need of a cutting. He grinned, the ball was just across a patch of dandelions.   
  
"Hey greaser!" A car full of Soc's passed by him slowly, shouting. Johnny gave it little thought, and headed out to through the sea of weeds. It was then that he heard footsteps and his heartbeat began to quicken. Johnny jammed his lighter in his pocket and without second thought took off at a dead run across the lot toward his own home.  
  
Once his pace quickened so did the four Soc's trailing him. As Johnny's feet hit the pavement he saw the royal blue Mustang they had come from. His mind wasn't able to comprehend the wholeness of the situation until a double fisted blow landed between his shoulder blades throwing him to the hot black top.   
  
Johnny felt blood run between his teeth, he knew he'd lacerated the inside of his cheek with his molars when his cheek impacted the road. One of the Socs pulled him up and Johnny felt the warm sticky liquid run down his chin and onto his jacket, which he promptly slid from and began to run again; this time for his life hopefully leaving the Socs only with his jacket. His plan had been good, but to no avail they caught him again...and now they were pissed.  
  
The strong hand on his arm turned Johnny's blood to ice. He was spun around to face a dark haired grinning Soc and a quick flash of metal and then he was hit. Hard. He went limp, but another Soc held him up again. Another time he was hit, the dark haired Soc blurred in his dizzy vision. He felt his hair catch on something and then it was jerked violently from his head. Dizzier still, Johnny strained his eyes and saw the Soc jerk the black hairs from his rings before he was hit again. This time he felt the skin tear and almost yelled in surprised pain. He could feel the hole the rings had torn in his skin, where the warm sticky liquid was running down his face.  
  
Johnny gasped softly, shaking his head. Blood was in his eyes. He couldn't see the Soc in front of him, rearing back for another blow. But he could smell the expensive shaving lotion they wore. Could hear their jackets rustling, their low muttered swears, the viscious words, whispered in malicious delight telling tales of knives and pain and greasers. And he could keenly feel the strong grip of the Soc holding him captive, the hot breath against his ear, the stunning blows of the tireless Soc who hit him again and again and again....  
  
And then the soft words went hard, and with their change Johnny could feel the cold metal sliding along his skin.  
  
"Three guesses what this is greaser."  
  
Johnny stiffened, biting back the scream that rose in his throat. What did Dally always tell him? That's right: show no emotion. Swallowing hard, Johnny tried to think of what Dallas would do now. He knew the tow-headed greaser would curl his lip and say "fuck off" or something, even if he was scared to death inside, and Johnny longed to do the same. BUt before he could open his mouth, the knife turned scraping the sharpened edge against his skin and he had to go back to biting his lip in frightened anticipation.  
  
"And one guess..."  
  
The blade was pressing, pressing against his skin.  
  
"...just what..."  
  
Harder and harder, and then just the faintest trickle of blood...  
  
",,,we're gonna do..."  
  
Blood ran in rivers down his body and pain was right on it's heals.  
  
"...with it..."  
  
Oh god it hurt!  
  
"...and with you." 


	5. Chapter 5

Soda went into the station to pick up a couple Pepsis, for the walk home, while Steve finished picking up all the pieces of his currently disassembled car. "Pony hand me the flywheel and the carb would ya," Steve snapped softly.   
  
Pony knelt down picking up the round flat gear-like wheel and the awkwardly shaped part, cursing Steve silently the whole time for Steve's hatred for him. Pony believe that Steve only put up with him because of Soda, and deep down really had a terrible dislike for him; but Pony was passionate about everything and saw things from a different angle than the rest of the world. Truth be told Steve didn't really like anything, he was far to bitter about life to bother with putting energy to not liking Ponyboy.   
  
Steve had finished boxing all the pieces of his car and had locked the garage by the time Sodapop returned with three drinks. "Ready?" He grinned happily slinging an arm across Pony's shoulders.   
  
"Yep," Steve said brushing his hands together, then wiping the excess grease on his work shirt.   
  
"Well then lets get goin'," Pony said. "Since we gotta walk and it's getting' dark. Darry's already mad at me, I don't want him any angrier."   
  
Soda gave Pony a snicker and a slap on the back. His brother's affections were no comfort today, Darry really was mad about the C and he'd have a stern talking to when Darry got home; if he hadn't worked too hard.   
  
The three walked in silence simply enjoying the crisp evening air. When they did speak it was of Sandy or Evie or Steve's car but nothing in length, Pony partook in nearly none of the conversations because he was far too busy enjoying the beauty of summer blossoming around him. Steve kicked a rock over to Soda who passed it to Pony in a game of road-rock soccer. The three chased after the stone laughing and yelling the whole way. This went on for some time and only ended when the three were out of breath and had lost the stone somewhere in the grass.   
  
Soda stopped and placed his empty bottle alongside the gutter.   
  
"Looks like Johnny forgot his jacket," Steve said noticing Johnny's denim jacket lying in the road. He smiled thinking of his young, often forgetful, friend. Casually he slung it across his shoulder, but brought it back rather quickly with a curious expression. Pony and Soda watched Steve scratch at a spot on the collar of the coat. Then Steve dropped to his knee looking at the ground where the jacket had been; several matching stains accompanied the one that was on the coat.   
  
"Uhhhh," a low moan came from the other side of the vacant lot, emerging from a crumpled heap.  
  
Darry stood firmly planted on the tiny porch, hands on hips, eyes narrowed and focused on his youngest kid brother. Ponyboy was in for it this time.  
  
"A 'C'! A goddamned 'C'!" Darry muttered to himself watching Ponyboy, Steve and Soda come ever closer. "And then he goes out and does god knows what without telling me-" he broke off, frowning, noticing that the little group had stopped. "What the..." Darry muttered, jogging down the steps. Steve was picking something up and then suddenly the three of them were tearing across the field. Darry took off after them.  
  
"What's going on?" he demanded pulling up short. Sodapop was crouched on the ground holding onto someone. He looked back at Darry, a bleak expression on his face before turning back to the person.  
  
"Hey, Johnny - Johnnycake. Are you okay...?"  
  
~  
  
"The little bitch!"  
  
Two-Bit watched with barely concealed amusement as Dally kicked viciously at a garbage can and missed.  
  
"God, you think if she was so unsatisfied she'd just break it off," Two-Bit said casually.   
Dallas whirled on him, his eyes furious.  
  
"Break it off?? Unsatisfied?! She just wants to piss me off, GOD KNOWS WHY and-"  
  
"Well you look plenty pissed. Hey ain't that Stevie over there?" Two-Bit squinted, holding up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. It was Steve alright, and Soda and Ponyboy. They looked like they were racing, and wasn't that Darry in the distance? Two-Bit scanned the field his eyes suddenly catching on a dark bundle. 'Oh my god,' he thought.  
  
"Who gives a damn. Goddamn it Two-Bit are you even listening...?" Dally paused, noticing suddenly that Two-Bit wasn't even there. He was running over to a little group of people he thought Steve was a part of. "Fuck it," Dally muttered, starting after Two-Bit. He didn't really give if the greaser ignored him, but he had nothing to do after all.  
  
"Johnny, hey Johnny can you hear me? Johnny...." Soda shook his friend gently. "Come on man..."  
  
"What's going on?" Two-Bit gasped, puffing up to the group.  
  
"That's what I want to know," Darry added.  
  
"Oh my god." Steve shook his head slowly, disbelief written on his face.  
  
"Is he okay?" Ponyboy whispered, touching Johnny's hair gently.  
  
"Johnny. Johnnycake, come on..."  
  
"What the fuck is going on." Dally stopped short.  
  
"Johnny's hurt," Steve hissed. "Can't you guys use your goddamn eyes?"  
  
Two-Bit gazed down worriedly. "What happened?"  
  
"Don't know," Ponyboy replied, never taking his eyes off Johnny. "Just found him like this."  
  
"He's alive? Is he conscious? Did anyone call for help?"  
  
"Darry we just got here," Soda said quietly. "He's alive, but I don't know if he's conscious." He pushed Johnny's hair back.  
  
Two-Bit winced. "Oh my god..."  
  
"Johnny," Soda shook him again. "Johnny..."  
  
Dally knelt down beside him. Gently he brushed at the blood on Johnny's face, wiping it on his sleeve. "Got jumped," he said softly. Then suddenly he stood up.  
  
"Fuck it. Goddamned stupid fucking Socs..." He pushed past Two-Bit, one hand over his mouth, the other clenched into a fist, a sickened expression on his face.  
  
"Soda?"  
  
All eyes went to Johnny. He was struggling to open eyes that were nearly swollen shut.  
  
"Yeah, Johnny, we're here."  
  
Johnny swallowed. His throat was so dry. His face hurt, his arms hurt, his chest hurt, everything hurt. He could just barely make out Soda's face, and behind him all was dark and shadowy, but he knew the gang was there. He could hear Steve's laboured breathing and Dally's violent swearing, and he could smell the familiar clean soap that Darry always smelled of.  
  
"He's awake," he heard Ponyboy call in a hushed tone, and Dally suddenly stopped swearing.  
"Is he okay?"  
  
"Should we call a doctor?"  
  
Johnny licked his lips. "I'm okay," he said hoarsely. "I got jumped. Soda, there were so many of them-" his voice broke.  
  
"It's okay, Johnny, shhh, don't talk, you're gonna be fine." Soda's voice was soft, steady, reassuring, but Johnny's could already feel the panic slipping over him like water. He could sense the fear rising again in him, he could see the Soc's face...he had to talk, or he'd drown in it. Somewhere, Dally's swearing had started again.  
  
"There was a whole bunch of them...a blue mustang full. Soda, I got so scared..." He could remember exactly what they said, what they told him they were going to do to him, and to the gang, and to all the greasers over the west side of Tulsa...  
  
He tried to think what Dally would do. Dallas would swear a lot, and tell the gang he was gonna beat up every Soc alive, and then he would get up and be fine. Johnny opened his mouth, but he was too scared now. He could feel his chest start to heave, and before he knew it he was sobbing.  
  
"It's okay, Johnnycake, they're gone now."  
  
Johnny knew they were gone but he could still see them, hear them, sense them in his mind and it scared him to death. He tried to quit crying, the gang was there, Darry, Two-Bit, Dallas was there for God's sake, but he just couldn't stop. He never knew what the Socs would do, and the things they could think up terrified him.  
  
Soda held him gently, murmuring softly to him, "it's okay, Johnny, you're okay," over and over until Johnny's sobs faded.  
  
Dally paced in the background, saying, "fuck it, fuck it," over and over until Two-Bit told him to shut the hell up.  
  
Ponyboy sat as still as stone, watching Johnny, a horrified look on his face. He'd never, ever seen any of the gang, much less quiet Johnny, cry like that. 


	6. Chapter 6

Everyone sat silently in the Curtis living room as Darry mended Johnny in the back room, which once belonged to Mr and Mrs Curtis but was now occupied by the oldest living Curtis.   
  
The door creaked open and instantly everyone was on their feet. Two-bit wrung his hands, Dally swore, Pony and Soda stood very close to one another both with their hands in their pockets with the same worried look, and Steve ran his hand through his hair while he waited for Darry to give them the news…some news any news.   
  
Darry looked up slowly and creaked the door shut. His brow was furrowed; deep in thought. Awkwardly he padded out to the living room where his friends waited. His large muscled body shifting uncomfortably as he headed their way.   
  
"Well?" Two-bit moaned impatiently.   
  
In turn Darry ran a hand through his hair nervously. "He's…he's…" Darry paused, "he's going to recover physically. But he's pretty bad. I still think we should call the doctor."   
  
"No," Dally growled. All eyes went to him, and now in the spot light, Dally hesitated and grew angrier with each passing second of uncomfortable silence. "Johnny wouldn't be happy. He don't want the doctor to come."   
  
Two-bit nodded, "Yeah, Johnny didn't want to see him."   
  
"Can we see him?" Pony questioned barely above a whisper.   
  
"Well," Darry thought on it. "Sure, you can see him."   
  
"Is he awake?" Steve asked.   
  
"Yeah," Darry said.   
  
The entire gang headed for the hall, but Darry held up a hand. "He asked for Pony."   
  
"Damn it," Dally swore.   
  
"And you," Darry said to Dally. "Go on you two."   
  
Dally stalked past the bunch, and headed behind a curious Ponyboy who was currently pondering what in the world he and Dally had in common that struck Johnny so much to ask for them both. By the time they'd gotten to the door Pony decided they were nothing alike and Johnny was just out of his element in this weakened state.   
  
"Well go on," Dally pushed Pony; who hadn't realized he'd been standing in the doorway unmoving for some time.   
  
Pony pushed the door open and in Darry's bed Johnny lie very still. "Hey y'all." He smiled, though it was obvious to the pair that he was forcing the fake grin that now occupied his face.   
  
"Hey Johnny," Pony said. "How ya feelin'?" The question came out, though Pony knew the answer and didn't know what better to ask. Pony shifted uneasily, Johnny's face was half covered with white gauze and though it was fresh blood was already starting to redden through the new cloth.   
  
"Tired, I'm real tired," Johnny's words were forced, but Pony and Dally could feel the spirit in them; however something was wrong, something in Johnny's eyes like neither of them had seen before from innocent, quiet Johnny…he was scared, real scared. Pony watched Johnny sit up with little effort, as if he had no pain; Pony knew that was a falsity as well, Johnny had to be in pain lots of it. Dally was proud of Johnny's strength, it was obvious through his eyes though he'd never admit it; but Dally's heart was on his sleeve at that moment.   
  
"We'll get 'em Johnny, we'll get 'em," Dally assured.  
  
Johnny tried to smile but his face hurt too much for it to come out right. "Thanks man," he said quietly. Dally was pacing back and forth in the little room, and Johnny could almost see him going up to attack the Socs. Hit first ask questions later as usual…then a stab of fear shot through him. What if there were too many Socs? What if Dally got hurt…what if they did to him what they said they'd do…  
  
"Yeah, don't worry Johnny, the gang'll get even with 'em," Ponyboy added.  
  
"No!" Both boys stared at Johnny. "Don't, Ponyboy you'll get hurt. Don't get hurt. Don't you fight Ponyboy!" Johnny lay back down on the pillow, trembling. He hadn't even realised he'd sat up. Dally could take care of himself, he wouldn't let the Socs hurt him that bad. But Ponyboy was…more delicate. Johnny wasn't going to ever let him get hurt.  
  
"Hey, take it easy Johnnycake," Dally said softly, soothingly. Ponyboy stared at him, surprise written all over his features. First Johnny's outburst, completely out of character for him and now Dally was talking nice. The gang was just full of surprises.  
  
"Don't worry, Darry wouldn't let Pony near anything that he couldn't handle," Dally was saying. "Most likely Darry'll be watching out for him, or Soda will, or someone. Jeez, Johnny, if it bugs you that much, I'll just go with Darry or something-"  
  
"No," Johnny said weakly. "Not you either. Or Darry."  
  
Dally shook his head. "We gotta get even man. Look what they did to ya."  
  
Johnny tried to shrug. "I'm alright." He gave Dally a tough look. "I ain't that bad off."  
  
"Sure you are," Ponyboy said quietly. "You'll be fine in a few days. But the gang's gonna get even Johnny. We all care 'bout you too much to let it go."  
  
"They'll hurt you," Johnny said. "You don't know…what they said…"  
  
"DALLAS! Ponyboy, y'all DONE yet?! We wanna see him too-" There was a muffled thump and a chorus of whispered "Shut up Two-Bit"s. Dally laughed, breaking the mood.  
  
"Got no goddamned patience," he growled, reaching for a cigarette.  
  
"Neither do you," Ponyboy muttered, then said loudly. "And Darry's gonna kill you if you smoke it here."  
  
"Fuck!" Was Dally's response as he replaced the cigarette in the pack. Pony snickered in spite of himself, he knew Dally didn't want to tangle with Darry…as much as Darry didn't want to tangle with Dally.  
  
"Y'all don't," Johnny's face had become pale stricken and fearful, as that of a wounded animal.  
  
"The other guys wanna see ya," Dally said sharply spinning on his heels abruptly, he would not promise Johnny something he couldn't uphold. Dally had every intention on beating those Socs heads in, as soon as he could get his hands oh them. Dally had to push the door open because of the guys leaning on it. "Goddamn it, MOVE!"  
  
They scattered quickly at Dally's words and parted letting him pass and head out, slamming the screen door as he took his cigarette on the porch.  
  
The other guys gathered around Johnny. "Geez, Two-bit," Johnny grinned, "you really do look funny without your sideburns."  
  
Two-bit scratched his soft, hairless cheek and muttered something about still owing Sodapop a good whipping. Pony didn't stay when they all got started on some idle conversation. He was still half sick from seeing Johnny all beaten and the blood that was still leaking from his wounded friend. He walked out into the living room where Darry was still standing aimlessly.  
  
"I'm goin' for a walk," Pony said.  
  
"All right Pon, be back before dark," Darry said. 


	7. Chapter 7

Pony nodded, he knew Darry was worried; but wasn't going to keep him cooped up all the time over this, however he would be very cautious for a few days. As Pony left he walked around Dally, nor did he interrupt the tow headed teen, who was taking swings at an imaginary opponent. He was hot, and obviously getting angrier by the minute. Unlike the other guys, Pony noted, Dally got angrier the more he thought about Johnny…but with the other guys the more time went by the less pissed they were. Maybe he and Dally were more alike than he had previously thought, Dally was passionate; at least about hating.  
  
Ponyboy jogged off the porch and down the road. Running kept his mind of the unfairness of society, though when he was running he was able to think without any outside intrusions. As he rounded the corner of the adjacent block he heard something and stopped.  
  
"Howdy Ponyboy."  
  
Pony turned and was faced with a rugged looking, blue-eyed juvenile delinquent he knew named Curly. "Hey Curly."  
  
Curly nodded leaning on the light pole taking along drag off his weed, "How ya been, I ain't see you around since I've got outta the cooler."  
  
"I'm okay," Pony responded hesitantly, "When'd you get out?"  
  
"Two weeks ago," Curly grinned tossing away his current smoke and pulling out another and lighting it right away. However, etiquette caught this troubled youth; he pointed the pack at Pony offering him one as well. Pony took a cigarette from the pack and proceeded to bum a light from Curly. "Curtis you always look a little more like your brothers."  
  
Pony snorted, though thoroughly enjoying his first puff of the cancer stick. He decided against telling Curly that he was a carbon copy of his older brother Tim; he didn't know how Curly would take it half because he didn't know how to take being told he was his brothers' shadow.  
  
"Shit," Curly grinned again, "but nobody's as tough as Darry. Damn that guy can take anything, I bet."  
  
"Shut your trap," Pony said, "I am as tough as him, he's just strong…that's all."  
  
Curly didn't take offense, but he smiled lopsidedly, "Common, play chicken with me then."  
  
"What?" Pony asked.  
  
Curly took his cigarette from his mouth and pointed it at Pony, "Common."  
  
Pony nodded, he'd show Curly he was just as tough as Darry. The two boys simultaneously touch the embers of their cigarettes to the other's finger. Before Ponyboy knew it the tip of his finger was burning so much he could feel the fire shoot up his hand through his arm and into his body. And the smell of melting flesh was making them both nauseous.  
  
Tim flipped up the collar on his leather jacket and jogged out into the still dark night. He breathed in the smell of clean air and grinned, happy to be away from the smoky rooms at Buck Merril's. His spirits were up, he felt slightly giddy and he hadn't even started really drinking yet. He just needed a bit of a walk to cool down…  
  
He rounded a corner and plopped down on a sidewalk bench. The night air didn't smell so good here, he thought to himself, wrinkling his nose. A little like burning, like when Angela's curling iron set her hair aflame. He scanned the area, looking for fire but all he saw were two figures in the shadows, crouched down around their cigarettes. He squinted at them (damn they looked familiar) but his eyes yielded nothing. He shrugged and reached into his jacket pocket for his own weed. He inhaled the tobacco scent with relish. He always enjoyed a smoke after a good-  
  
"Fuck!"  
  
Tim jumped and looked sharply over to the two figures. Slowly, he stood up, cigarette fixed in his mouth, ready to investigate. He walked closer, closer, and their faces began to take shape.  
  
"Curly? What the…and ain't that Ponyboy? What the hell you boys doin'?"  
  
Curly's face was contorted in an expression of agony. Ponyboy was wearing an almost identical expression, the fingers on his free hand clenching and unclenching rapidly. He looked up at Tim guiltily, but Curly didn't even glance at his brother.  
  
"Playin'…chicken…uhhhhfuuuuuuhhhhck," Curly managed through clenched teeth.  
  
In one swift move Tim knocked both cigarette's from the boys' hands.  
"Goddamn it Curly!" he swore. "These are cigarettes! You're wasting good money in tobacco. Burnin' holes in yourselves…fuck, it ain't good for you. Ya dickheads, if you can't smoke a cigarette responsibly, you won't smoke 'em at all, ya hear?!" Grabbing his Curly, Tim felt his younger brother's pockets and quickly came up with the pack.  
  
"Here." He jammed a cigarette in Curly's mouth, then whirled around and stuck one in Ponyboy's just for the hell of it. "You light 'em, and you smoke. None of this burning you're fingers off shit. You treat these like they're 'sposed to be treated!"  
  
A sudden shout of laughter brought Tim around. Dally loped up to him, shaking his head.  
"Well if it ain't Saint Timothy off to preach to the young'uns 'bout the sins of cigarette misuse. Learn much today from the good Reverend kids?"  
  
"Shut it," Tim growled, shoving Dally. Hard.  
  
Dally ignored Tim, the grin still plastered on his face. "Man, Tim. I'd never thought of you as the poster boy for responsibility, but after that, I'm starting to rethink-"  
  
"I said SHUT IT, or this cigarette is going up your-"  
  
"Hey, ASSHOLE. Hey greaser, we're talking to you."  
Tim, Dally, Ponyboy and Curly all turned to look as a small group of obviously drunken Socs staggered up to them. A blond one wearing expensive tan slacks, a madras jacket and his dinner on his shirt poked a finger at Dally's chest.  
  
"That's the one who jumped me the other day," he said loudly over his shoulder. He gave Dally a toothy grin. "Remember me?" 


	8. Chapter 8

"Hmmm," Dally pondered it arrogantly, then he grinned, "Oh right, I remember now. You're that faggot that started something with me yesterday when I was collecting my friend here," Dally indicated Pony, "from school."   
  
"You're that little shit," the Soc jabbed at finger at Pony.  
  
Pony was instantly hooking his thumbs in his pockets and taking a drag off his cigarette saying, "Yeah, so?"  
  
"Looks like I'm gettin' y'all first," the Soc snorted.  
  
"Look around," Tim spoke, "Y'all are on the wrong side'a town. Why don't y'all take your sorry asses outta our territory."  
  
The four awaited the Socs response. It never failed to amaze Pony what he, and the rest of his buddies, could become in a matter of seconds. Tim had just been giving he and Curly a lecture on the way to treat a cigarette casually; and now he was there teeth barred angry as all hell bitterly showing the Socs who was boss in this neighborhood.  
  
"We rule this whole goddamn city, fuck you owning half of it. We are the kings." The Soc grinned. But it didn't last long, Dally jumped on him knocking them both to the ground. Dally didn't hesitate, he began pounding the Soc's head into the ground and Tim gave a laugh.   
  
"You rule huh?" Tim retorted dangerously. However Tim's smile faded as the Soc's three remaining friends pounced on Dally and before anyone could even blink one had him in a coke hold while the other pressed a knife to his chin.   
  
Curly stepped forward but Tim held up a hand signaling his brother to hold.  
  
'Fuck,' Tim thought furiously, his eyes glued to Dally and the Soc that held him. Why the hell did Dallas always have to get into trouble?  
  
The blond boy had an angry, tough-looking glare on his face, but every so often the Soc would shift his grip and Dally would wince.  
  
"So who's the boss now?" The Socs snickered.  
  
"Lemme at 'em! Come on Tim, I can take 'em," Curly hissed. Tim shook his head slightly. One wrong move and Dally was dead.  
  
"So, should we kill this asshole? Make an example of why Socs are better than grease trash?" The Soc with the knife moved closer, pressing the blade into Dally's skin.  
  
Dally winced again as the Soc moved. The knife didn't scare him, he'd been threatened by worse. But the stupid Soc who had him in a choke hold had big, ornate buttons on his madras jacket, and Dally's hair was caught around one. It pulled every time the Soc moved, and hurt more than the steel slicing gently into his flesh.  
  
"Uh," he grunted. Tim gave him a look, and Curly almost half-smirked at the sound – he'd always thought he was tougher than Dallas. Dally turned his eyes to Ponyboy. The kid looked tougher than usual, but his eyes kept flickering back and forth. He caught Dally's gaze and widened his eyes.  
  
"Darry!" Ponyboy yelped suddenly, his eyes still on Dally.  
  
The Socs shifted, one stupid one turned his back on the little group and in that instant Tim was all over the armed Soc. In a matter of seconds he'd wrestled the knife away and was pounding his fist into the Soc's face. Dally dug his elbow sharply into the boy holding him captive.  
  
"Oof," the Soc gasped, tumbling backwards. Dally wrenched out of his grasp, his hair tearing away from his head in the movement.  
  
"Run!" he hollered at Ponyboy, who was standing stalk still in the middle of everything. Even Curly had at least jumped another Soc. Ponyboy didn't hesitate – he took off. Dally turned back to fight, but Tim had already grabbed his arm and was dragging him away.  
  
"They're all armed," he yelped and, grabbing Curly, they took off across the field after Ponyboy.  
  
Slicing gasps of cool air cut into their lungs as the four collapsed in the vacant lot, they'd run more than twelve blocks without stopping.  
  
"Do you see them?" Pony said brushing off his pants as he climbed to his feet. He was out of breath, but it passed as he was an expert track runner.  
  
"Nah," Tim huffed rolling over, "they stopped a few blocks back."  
  
"A few?" Curly snorted before sucking in a quick breath, "They stopped sort 8 blocks ago."  
  
"That don't mean nothin'," Dally said, "they might still follow us, we just don't see 'em."  
  
"I don't think so," Curly said.  
  
"Nah," Tim agreed, "they'd have to come into our neighborhood, where they know there's more of us lurking around."  
  
Pony almost got sick, and Dally hollered at them to shut their mouths. Johnny had been in this very spot earlier in the afternoon when he'd been nearly torn to shreds by a clan of Socs.   
  
As the thought of Johnny's mangled body left Pony's mind his head jolted toward the sky. He stared at the inky black night laced with twinkling speckles of light. He nearly moaned and as if answering his exasperated sigh Darry's voice cut through the darkness, "Ponyboy? I thought I told you to be in before dark!"  
  
Darry was hauling Pony across the lot as Tim was pulling himself to his feet. None of them spoke; and somehow each of the three street hoods wondered what it would be like to have some to take care of them.  
  
Pony jerked away as soon as the opportunity presented itself, which was as soon as the screen door slammed. "Glory Darry! Why'd you have to embarrass me in front of the Shepards?"  
  
"Embarrass you?" Darry boomed, "You had me scared stiff Ponyboy. I told you to be in before dark. I don't understand what part of before you didn't get! Do you want to end up like Johnny in there?"  
  
"No," Pony mumbled miserable.  
  
"Well then I suggest you get to your room now. Before I consider grounding you for the whole week!"  
  
Pony considered protesting, but instead he settled for a night in his room as opposed to an entire week of Darry's groundation.  
  
"Well," Curly finally broke the silence. "I'm headed home. I had a long night last night, I don't want another one tonight."  
  
"Suit yourself," Tim shrugged, "I'm headed to Buck's to find some action. Wanna tag along Dal?"  
  
Dally pondered it. He remembered his last encounter at Bucks. Sylvia and…Buck. He shuttered at the thought. Sylvia was his piece of ass. Then it dawned on him, Sylvia was his piece of ass and she'd probably be there. "Sure." 


	9. Chapter 9

Tim grinned. "Good. Could use some company. And not their kind of company." He spat contemptuously at the dark to the out-run Socs.  
  
Dally shrugged. "Yeah and I could use some action too. Haven't seen a girl in awhile."  
  
"Nah, but that girl has seen plenty of other guys."  
  
Dally swore back at Tim and flung a wild punch in his direction. It might have been true, but he didn't want it all over town that his girl was screwing whoever she wanted to – or that he still wanted her after she did.  
  
The party was raging when they got there, guys yelping, girls laughing, music blaring…  
  
"Alright! Party!" Tim grinned, opening the door without knocking.  
  
The tiny house was crammed full of people, with one thing in common – they were all drunk, or soon going to be. Couples danced with each other next to the tape machine, pressed so close they took up the same amount of space as one large person. The girls were perched on a few dining room chairs, chirping about make-up, clothes, and above all, men. These were not the whispery, giggly, chaste kind of girls. They were the loud, slutty, gonna-have-fun-if-it-kills-me girls, that the guys loved, and the prudish femmes envied. A group of single guys were strewn about the couches, drinks in hand, telling stories that would have made the opposite side holler and slap them (all in good fun of course). Buck was amongst them. He looked up as Tim and Dally entered and grinned.  
  
"Hey there, Shepard. Saw your sister 'round here tonight."  
  
Tim's jaw dropped. "Angela?"  
  
One of the guys whistled. "Whoee, she was lookin' mighty fine in that tiny little dress and heels. Went off with some guy out back. Probably layin' him right now-"  
  
"Shut your trap!" Tim hollered, launching himself at the guy, knocking over Buck's drink.  
  
"Hey!" Buck yelped in protest, scrambling to get out of Tim's way. He caught Dally's eye and winked. "I know who you're lookin' for-"  
  
"Everyone knows who you're looking for," someone added.  
  
Buck grinned crazily. "She's around here somewhere. And she ain't with me," he hollered holding up his hands for peace. "C'mon man, that was a while ago-"  
  
Dally slugged him once then backed off. "Deal with you later," he growled, turning his back on the bunch of guys. He needed to find Sylvia before the whole town knew what she was up to.  
  
He shoved his way through the crowded hallway, eyes searching for his girl. He pulled up short at the kitchen – Sylvia was perched on a stool, drinking beer, laughing gaily with some guy he didn't know.  
  
"Well gosh, I didn't know you had muscles that big," she laughed, pushing on his arm.  
  
The moron grinned hitching up his pants. "That's ain't the half of it baby."  
  
Sylvia made herself laugh again, but couldn't help rolling her eyes. She knew Dally would show up here, he had to. But how much longer would she have to wait for him to get there?  
  
"Beat it," a familiar voice growled from behind her. The moron opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again and backed off, looking pissed.  
  
Sylvia smiled. "Dallas," she said without looking at him.  
  
"Girl, I gotta teach you a lesson," he hissed. "'Bout why it ain't good for little two-faced broads to be running around when they got a boyfriend."  
  
"Oh but Dal," she sighed smoothly hopping from the stool and gliding in his direction. She ran her hands up his flannel shirted chest, "I didn't know you were my 'boyfriend', per se." She cocked her head and attempted to look innocent.  
  
Dally pushed her aside as his chest began to heave in anger. He knew she was pulling one over on him, but he wasn't about to look the fool in front of Mr. Muscles. "I'll deal with you in a minute."  
  
"What's a'matter?" the drunken hillbilly blurted at Dally. "She's my broad and you better let it go little man." The dark haired brut pushed a finger in Dally's chest.  
  
Dally sighed inwardly, hot vigorous blood pumping viciously through his veins. He'd been angry all day, why not finish the night out with the fight he'd been working up to all day? At that moment Dally thought of Johnny, and how willing he'd been to pound someone's head in, then his mind flipped to the drunken Soc who threatened his life in front of Tim, Curly, and Pony, and now to his whore willingly flouncing around with this lunatic…and he let his rage loose. He leapt like a wild cat, teeth bared and arms flailing into the hillbilly's chest.   
  
The nameless guy tumbled back as Dally began pounding on his face, chest, arms, whatever he could and didn't stop. Moments later the two were rolling around on the ground throwing a punch here and there until Sylvia's shrill shrieks brought Tim, Buck, and a slew of other half drunk and totally trashed individuals.  
  
Before Dally knew it he was being hauled to his feet and drug by several people out the door. 


	10. Chapter 10

"Here, you wanna fight," Buck barked at them, "do it outside."  And with that he slammed the door.  Dallas, the nameless foe, and Sylvia all watched the rest of the party goers head back in.  Dally didn't wait, as the group disappeared and his enemy watched he took his opportunity as an advantage and pounced on the unsuspecting man again.

Sylvia grabbed at his arm, but it was her voice that stopped him: "Godamnit Dallas ain't you ever done with the fighting?"

Dally turned away from the other man, who was sporting a black eye, bloody nose and lip and a severely injured pride. "I'll stop fighting," he said slowly, his eyes staring unflinchingly into hers, "when you stop cheating."

Sylvia looked away. "It wasn't cheating if you weren't really my boyfriend-"

"You knew damn well I was your boyfriend. That's what the fucking ring means," Dally hissed, stepping forward and gripping her wrist tightly. Sylvia's heart jumped. She looked straight back at Dallas, determined not to let him know she was starting to feel afraid. She'd always wondered where his breaking point was. How far she could push him before he would just…snap…

"If you want to be dating me you'd better act like it then," she said coolly. "And I don't mean the occasional date to a drive-in where we don't even watch the movie, or to a bar where you end up leaving me to go play pool. I mean somewhere nice."

"Oh, right, with all the money I've got on me," Dally sneered at her. "Get real Sylvia. I'm a greaser, same as you. You know me, and you knew what you were getting when we got together. You want to go to a country club or shit like that then get lost. Go see if there's some desperate Soc who'll take you."

Later, he'd kick himself for saying exactly what he didn't mean to say. He'd curse his temper and blame it on being mad about Johnny. He'd rage in private and act cool with his gang, and try not to let on that he felt like he'd explode if one more person came up to him and asked him about what happened with Sylvia.

"You ain't nothing but a whore," he said then, "and I'm through with your shit. This ends here." Releasing her wrist, he turned and stalked back to the party. By the time he'd reached the door he'd regretted what he'd said, but one quick look back and he kept moving. Sylvia was wrapped up in a passionate embrace with her nameless hillbilly.

Dally made sure to slam the door as he went into Buck's.  No one noticed beyond the screaming country music and the drunks laughing, arguing, or making out.  Dally groaned, he didn't want to be here tonight, at the same time he didn't want to go back outside where Sylvia might see him and catch on that she'd caused some kind of emotional response in him.  Instead he decided to head up the stairs and try and crash, while he could still get some sleep.  As his head came within inches of the pillow he heard a loud bang followed by several thuds and some screaming.

"Fuck it!" He swore pulling himself out from underneath the sheets.  Pulling his shirt over his head he shuffled out of the room, and before he knew it he was being scooped up by a man in a uniform who banged his face of the stair railing and began reading him his rights.

"What the fuck is going on?" Dally demanded.  He cringed and held back a yelp as the police officer twisted his arm harder.

"I'll lay it down straight," the officer leaned over close to Dally's ear.  Dally ground his teeth together as the officer's hot breath began to creep down his neck.  "You're Dallas Winston, 16-year-old punk at a drinking party; no doubt you've had some…which by law you ain't allowed to consume until you're 21 years of age."  

Dally swore under his breath then piped up, "I ain't drank any thing tonight."

"Is that right?" The officer oozed haughtily.  "And why should I believe you?"

"Because I ain't lyin'," Dally growled.

"Well, we'll let the chief down at the station make that judgment."

Dally rolled his eyes as he felt the officer slap a set of cuffs on his wrists.  He wanted to kick himself as he watched a couple of his friends being drug off, no doubt for under age drinking.  If he'd just stayed in the room they probably would have overlooked him, and he decided that he'd have been more comfortable here than spending the night in the slammer.  At the same time, he half chuckled; he had no idea who that officer was yet the officer knew him…apparently all too well.  The Infamous Dallas Winston, he thought.

"The Infamous Dallas Winston…fucking joy," Dallas muttered. Sitting on a top bunk of a 4 person jail cell alone, knowing he was likely to be there for at least a day or two was a bit of a downer. At this moment, he could have cared less about his rep.

Footsteps and loud cursing made him sit up sharply.

"In here 'till you cool down enough to learn why fighting's bad," a cop said, roughly shoving a young man of about 20 into Dally's cell. Dally squinted at him; for some reason he looked familiar.

"Yeah? Well where's that goddamn Soc huh? How come he's not stuck in a lousy jail cell to cool down?" the young man spat. "This is bullshit!"

The cop walked away, completely ignoring the man.

Dally watched his cellmate curse and holler until his ears were ringing and the young man's voice was hoarse. The cop never came back, and no answers were given. Still the man kept yelling. 'Some people never learn,' Dally thought.

"Hey," he said suddenly, during a pause in the man's rant. "You wanna shut up? They ain't gonna tell you nothing, believe me. And all the yelling in the world ain't gonna get you out of this cell."

The man looked around, seemingly surprised that Dally was there. When he spotted him, his face flushed and an angry look came on his face at being told to 'shut-up' by someone younger than him.

"I'm in the right here," he growled. "That goddamn Soc was the one who started it. I didn't even-"

"Soc's always get off easy." Dally shrugged. "Greasers don't. Live with it."

The young man glared at him. "Who the hell do you think you are kid?"

"Dallas Winston. Please ta meet ya." 

The man's eyes widened, but he shrugged off his surprise. "I heard about you. Thought you'd be older though, and bigger," he said, eyeing Dally's slight build.

Dally rolled his eyes. "Right, and I'll bet all the greasers you know have tons of food to bulk up on huh."

The stranger was quiet for a minute. "I'm Jack," he said finally. "Jack Anders."

Dally cocked his head to the side. He'd heard that last name somewhere…Anders. But he couldn't remember where from. He didn't like the guy so much, he seemed too innocent and righteous. But he was bored, and there was nothing else to do but talk to the guy.

"Why were you fighting?"

Jack shook his head looking glum. "It wasn't my fault. This dumb Soc started it. I was just getting even."

"What did he do?"

Jack sighed. "He was bugging my sister Bonnie. Trying to get with her, even though she wasn't having any..."

Something in Dally's brain clicked. He knew that name. Bonnie Anders…she was Darry's old girlfriend.


End file.
